Chapter One: Introductions
by triggeringwords
Summary: Newborn vampire Mirra has quite a lot of untangling to do about her past and how she came to be so.. not what she once was. But the confusion can only linger for now, especially with a new purpose dawning.


I knew after the fire something had changed about me. I could feel it in my chest, an empty vessel heavy from the ghost of it's duties to keep me alive. I had died, but I was still able to see the smoke wavering above me, clouding the trees and the starry sky beyond it. I was still able to turn my head and imagine the house I had spent my entirety of 18 years in, which was now a decrepit frame. All I can remember before the heat was laying down, trying to ease into my slumber, before waking to up to flames surrounding the arms carrying me out of the fiery labyrinth. I should have been lying in a hospital, if my rescuer was a fireman. But as I sat up, I saw no one around. Just me in the yard of my used-to-be home, that had my parents and I as it's only residents, at the end of a street surrounded by woods. I stood up, knowing in my gut, that I was the only survivor.

Suddenly I was running to my only friend Adam's house, with unimaginable speed impossible of a human's stamina. Strangely enough, Adam had answers. In fact, he was waiting with them for me on the steps of his front porch.

* * *

My name is Mirra Baschkover. Russian and Lebanese. Shrewd, heavy features consisting of large, what used to be blue eyes, a slim hooked nose, and lush curved lips. My hair is wavy and a deep, deep red. My skin now pale as the new moon, cold as the pacific. I no longer age, and I no longer feel prominent pain, and I no longer consume anything other than the blood of a human. I am, by definition, a vampire.

Adam LeDay is also a vampire. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be of mobility. I would say alive, but alive is what one could hardly call what I am. Why weren't my parents also rescued? Switched? Evolved? Adam didn't make it to them. And from what he has told me, he wasn't supposed to.

Up until the night of the fire, I never knew Adam was any different from what I was. I thought the glowing embers he had for irises were a beautiful defect of pigmentation, like everyone else had thought. Like everyone else has been told. But Adam has been a dead-and-walking creature for 407 years, and he will stay that way until the end of time. I will, too. As for his reason of rescuing only me, it is because of the Volturi, our kind's dictators. He says that one of them named Aro sent members of his coven to kill off my remediate family as soon as I would be of legal age in this country, which then he would rely on Adam to change me. Adam tells me that they needed another of their kind in the area, for there is only Adam in the city of Portland. If Adam didn't agree to this tragedy, he would be murdered all over again. Neither of us believe the reason behind Aro's orders. Besides, what if I had decided to move once I had been changed? But trying to piece everything together can be difficult, especially when you have nowhere to start. As for now, I live with Adam in his townhouse. He lives alone. A year older than me by theory. He attends the community college nearby, while I, only out of interest, am finishing up my senior year at Brumfield High. We are not mates. Not madly in love like the other vampire couples that somehow end up finding each other. We are simply friends, trying to control our thirst around all the souls that surround us.

* * *

It's been three months since the change. Much of my grieving has passed, taken out on drunkards stumbling into me. I look up at Adam from my mug of O negative blood, courtesy of Adam's old vampire friends that work with blood donors who believe their blood is used for testing. Yes, they are well payed. There's a question that's been working it's way from the depths of my curiosity to the tip of my tongue.

"Adam.." I say plainly. He glances up at me from his battered copy of The Great Gatsby. Always a lover of classics, even if he is before their time. His eyes meet mine, a piercing yellow from draining two squirrels on the balcony of the second floor this morning.

"Why did you pick me. As your friend. How have you always been able to stand it?"

"You entertain me. Why would I want to harm someone with a mind much like my own?" he replies. Adam is what I guess you'd call a "vegetarian" vampire. He prefers not to harm a human unless necessary, instead going for the animals. I give a weak closed-mouth smile before taking my first sip. It's warm, heated but not scalding. I wish I had Adam's strength. He's told me within a month or so I should be feeling less on-edge with my thirst. For now he supports my craving for the mortal's blood, which I am ever gracious of.

"Any news?" He's asking if I've felt anyone's urge to kill. That's my immortal's gift. I can feel the surge of adrenaline in a humans body, as if coming in waves through mine, and my mindset will, for a moment, shift into their's so I can gather a name, whereabouts and definite intention. Adam can know the time of every being he meet's birth and death, and happiest moment/saddest moment. Like a psychic, he's said.

"This is Portland, Adam. All the time. But nothing too shaky. No one with balls has reached me. Not since November."

If we know someone's about to die, that's when we take action, making a nice little snack out of the predator. We make a great pair, combining our lousy gifts to save one life and end another. To be cliche, we try to be the lesser of two evils.

"Do you have any homework due this week? I'm so bored.." I do enjoy having a roommate that's graduated from high school over 300 times, mainly only for the tedious math and physics problems.

"Nothing I shouldn't do myself" I reply with a shake of my head.

"Well, let's go into town then. The movies. We can catch the matinée of that new one about the shadow hunters or whatever they're called."

"Is that even out yet?"

He just looks at me. "Grab the keys."

So I do.

* * *

I've just opened the door to get back in the car after watching a disgraceful movie interpretation of one of my favorite books series, and that's when I see her. Long fine hair, dark as night. She has her septum pierced with about a 14g open hoop. A few freckles here and there, pale skin, dark eyes and short side swept bangs that look as if they were meant to be straight-cut. I can't move. Adam leans over from inside the car and pokes me in the ass with his car key.

"Watch it, dude, these jeans are True Religion.." I mumble, unable to turn my head away from this angel. She's working in the ticket booth in an ugly maroon tunic with a black collar. How did I not see her before? She must have just started her shift. She see's me now from across the drop off space, before the parking lot. My bottom lip quivers before my mouth stretches into a partly open smile. She gives me a slight smirk and a small nod. A surge of slight confusion hits me. Is she gay? Am I gay? I somehow shut the door and start walking towards her before giving Adam an explanation. I assume he's watching, because the car still hasn't started. The angel pushes some hair behind her left ear while completing an older couple's ticket transaction. She sees me coming when they turn to enter the theater. I receive a smile out the side of her mouth. When I finally get to her, I notice that she has tunnels in her ears, most likely 15.9mm.

"Hi," I mutter meekly.

She fills out the rest of her smile and offers me a "hi" back.

"I'm Mirra," is my lame result, the only introduction I can think of. She reaches her hand through the transaction hole to shake my hand, while replying with her name, "Alena." That is the most beautiful name I have ever heard.

I hear a car door slam, then turn around to see Adam briskly heading towards us. He stops with a halt once he is a few feet away from me.

"Uh.. What's up?" he asks with a slight air of confusion.

"Oh, Adam this is Alena. She uh.." I pause.. "works here." I finish with furrowing my eyebrows. Why is talking such a troublesome task right now?

"So you two, know each other or something?" he asks, looking back and forth at Alena and I.

"We do now," she says with such confidence I have to look at the ground. "I get off at 8."

I see she's wearing contacts. Why would anyone want such dark contacts?

"Are you guys.. vamps?" she asks. And now I can't even pretend to breathe. It can't be that obvious to a mortal, especially when they technically aren't allowed to know. Unless..

Adam just laughs, then proceeds, "I'm guessing you don't live around here?"

"Just moved in yesterday, actually. It's easy to get a job when you look this good." She winks. I die for a second time. She's noticed me staring directly into her.

"Like the contacts, Mirra?"

No. "Adam, what? How could you tell? And you, how could you tell about us?"

"It's all in the eyes. But anyway, I come from New Orleans. I'm sure you've heard of it. I moved here for a change of scenery. I'm attracted to the rivers. Also heard vampires were pretty scarce around here; needed a place to break the tension. I'm tired of losing my prey to a vampire named Garrett, who technically belongs in Alaska, I hear."

"Scarce is right. It's just us around here." How can he conjure his words in the presence of this beautiful girl? She looks at me directly before repeating that she gets off at 8, then writes on a piece of Cinema 12 stationary before sliding it to me. Next to what I assume is her cell phone number, is the word "girls" with a small heart around it. She winks at me when I look back up.

"Alright, well," ah, words. "Thanks for the number. Welcome to Oregon. See you tonight then?"

I get one nod from her before heading back to the car, Adam right on my tail.

* * *

Me and Adam are both back in the car, about to pull out of our parking space, when Adam says, "Well, we can almost call this a coven now, right? It's a little odd that the Volturi told me I need to change you when we both know they saw her coming somehow." I think of the fire. The smoke and fumes. The screams that never even woke me.

"Adam," I say quietly, shaking the thought from my head.

"Hmm?"

"I like her!"

"You just met her.."

"And she's a girl!"

He grins through his words. "Then invite her over tonight. We can make A positive shakes."

"That sounds gross, Adam. Blood and milk? I'm sure she'd just prefer the blood itself. Unless she's like you, or us, I guess. Hard to tell with those crazy lenses."

"You don't know what you're missing, dude." And with that, he finally pulls out, and we are heading back home.

* * *

It's 15 minutes past 8, and I decide maybe it's too early to text or call yet, so I wait half an hour. She answers on the first ring.

"Hello?" she asks warmly, obviously expecting me.

"Alena?"

"Hi, Mirra." More warm tones in her voice. I smile.

"How did you know it was me?"

"I know everyone's name and intention. That's my gift. What's yours?"

I feel incredibly upstaged, yet somehow also relieved that her gift also revolves around another beings. "Uh.. I can tell when anyone in my area is about to kill.."

She waits a moment before saying, "Sexy," then giggles. "Like the sixth sense of a true predator."

"More like mother's instinct or something," is my response. She laughs. Then I ask her about drinking cool A positive blood from a wine glass.

"How civilized. I can be there in 5 minutes. What's the address?"

I let her know I'll just text it to her, along with some short and easy directions.

She says "Sweet." before abruptly hanging up the phone. And now I'm feeling something..

* * *

Exactly five minutes later, our doorbells rings. Adam lets her in, taking her coat. She takes in our tiny kitchen and den: low ceiling, light blue walls, opal, white and beige furniture, dark hardwood floors, a fireplace..

"Very nice. Quaint. I like it." She compliments. I let Adam thank her, for who am I to say it..

I shut a cabinet after receiving our glasses. Our eyes meet at once. I see the red in her eyes as she sees it in mine.

* * *

The drinking and conversing goes well. I've never opened up so much about my pain and hurt from losing my parents until tonight. Adam has never brought it out of me like she just has for us. I offer to bring her glass to the sink when she denies it and asks if we have brandy.

"I like the way you think." I agree with Adam. He fetches another packet of blood and the bottle of alcohol. I believe this is the _correct_ way to mix a Bloody Marry.

* * *

Adam makes it to midnight before heading for the toilet, upchucking the beverage. We hear gagging noises and liquid splashing into other liquid.

"Poor baby!" Alena almost yells. Adam at least could have closed the damn door. I am utterly embarrassed, and apparently it shows on my face.

"Alcohol got you flushed?" she slurs.

"I mean, it's been a good three hours, hasn't it?" I wonder about who Adam got the alcohol from, and whether or not it is affecting me differently now since I don't exactly have a bloodstream. I decide I don't care for either of them.

"Hey," she leans into me. I smell the iron of the blood mixed with the staleness of the alcohol as it floats off her tongue."I really can't drive like this, you should let me stay the night!"

I grimace as I hear Adam's final and scariest gag, which thankfully is a dry heave. He comes out the bathroom, looking perfectly unharmed despite the slight unbalance in his stride back to the couch.

"What'd I miss?"

"Can III sleepooooverrrrr?

"I mean, we don't really sleep.." Adam smirks. Alena looks at me with a questioning look. Somehow I feel a lurch in my chest. She has probably just missed the joke or at least taken it the wrong way. But despite this, I look at her and smile. "That means yes. Let me show you around then."

This is it. This is her. _My_ girl. And I think she feels it, too. Somewhere in the ice of my veins, I feel sparks swim to my brain. They make me ask, "Would you like to see my room?" Adam looks at me blankly, just like always. Alena says yes. Just "yes." So my room is where we end up.

I quietly close the door, unsure of why I am doing this. "You're the one," I hear her say.

I turn around and lean against the door. "I know." She graces my left cheek with the back of her hand. I close my eyes and let her press her mouth slightly above mine, working in unison as yin and yang. She pulls away after a few long seconds. I find myself eager to be lost in this girl named Alena Bretham.


End file.
